Sparks Fly
by HoneyBear1874
Summary: He was just being honest. Hisoka/Machi.


Despite her apathy, Hisoka was pleased to note Machi was never rough with her treatments.

Truthfully, she wasn't one for needless cruelty; no, she was far too kind. At least that's what Hisoka thought. As much as she scowled, as much as she narrowed her eyes, as much as she sighed in annoyance and complained, she took care of him with effortless and swift skill that managed to leave him giddily awaiting his next major injury.

Was he a masochist? Probably not.

Still, there was something about her eyes that left him….what was the word? He supposed she just left him wanting. He sometimes wished she didn't have so much skill with her Nen, she finished patching him up far too quick for his liking. Her deft fingers, the slight flick of her wrists, the flashing of her needle and thread, flashing and flickering like fireworks or sparklers. Her hands were so small.

And her eyes; flat and indifferent as she was to him, Machi's eyes could also be expressive, even if she put up a guarded front. The sharpening of her gaze as she did her magic, the furrow of her brow as she questioned his idiocy, which he thought was a bit harsh.

 _"What a cold woman she can be."_ Hisoka would muse after she rebuffs him with dull eyes and a straight face; not that her disdain upset him. On the contrary, it delighted him when she was mad, because to be upset with someone, to feel anger or irritation, it meant that person thought you significant enough to have those feelings for. Perhaps those feelings wouldn't drive her to join him for dinner, but it meant Machi knew him, recognized him, acknowledged him.

So, yes, perhaps her aid was given somewhat reluctantly with only the promise of ample pay to assuage her, but Hisoka would be damned if that slowed him down, not when he was making so much progress. Machi had actually threatened to hunt him down to the ends of the earth, until his last breath; how dedicated! The thrill that went up his spine at her glare was only rivaled by the goosebumps that pricked his arms and neck as she drew out her thread, admonishing him in her own uncaring way; he liked to think Machi was worried when he was injured.

If she wasn't, why would she even bother warning him to be more cautious in the first place? She wasn't that caring, at least not for people's general well being. Or maybe she was. If so, Machi would most likely not show it. Not to him.

Hisoka would smile to himself at the thought; he admired both her strength and her will.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

"Nothing." Machi said with a quiet huff; she looked away from his face and continued her stitching.

"Come on, you can't tease me like that Machi." Hisoka goaded; Machi stared at him with a fathomless expression before looking away once more.

"What in the world are you thinking about? I don't particularly care, but you have the most disturbing smile on your face." Machi finished and the threads pulled tightly together, binding his digits back in place. _"Well, more so than usual…"_

"If you're that curious, I suppose I can tell you the inner workings of my mind just this once." Hisoka stretched and curled his fingers inward toward his palm with a mildly impressed grin. "Once again your skill leaves me awestruck. Lovely."

"Pay up."

Hisoka tossed her a full bag; he was touched that she didn't check it was the right amount before stowing it away in her own bag.

"I'll be off then." Machi slung the strap of the bag over one shoulder and turned to leave.

"So soon?" Hisoka's smile was a mix of pleading and amusement. "Didn't you want to hear what I was thinking about?"

"On second thought, I think I'll pass." Machi replied tiredly as her light feet padded to the door; it was bad enough he gave her so much extra work, she honestly didn't want to hear whatever twisted thoughts were running through his head to make him smile like that when his limbs were getting stitched back together. Still, he paid well, so she supposed it was ungrateful to complain.

"You."

Machi hadn't even began to turn the doorknob before Hisoka's nonchalant voice spoke up.

"What?"

"I was thinking of you."

She didn't turn around. "I see. Do me a favor and don't articulate on the nature of those...thoughts."

Hisoka couldn't help pouting; she wouldn't even turn to face him. "You're no fun sometimes."

Machi didn't bother retorting as she opened the door and made her way out. "Try not to get yourself killed." she spoke swiftly and before Hisoka could get a word in, the door shut firmly.

His vision was suddenly flooded with flashing color, almost like fireworks, as the hand she had fixed trembled; with some effort he bit back a moan lest she hear it on the other side of the door. _"Oh Machi….you're too much…"_

Hisoka fell back on the bed and laughed.


End file.
